


Definitely Not Cursed

by Severina



Category: Live Free or Die Hard (2007)
Genre: Community: tamingthemuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 21:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Seriously John, I'm good, I'm all sweaty from running here from the station and I don't even know how to… whoa, okay, so you're just going to… oh holy fuck I'm holding the baby."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Definitely Not Cursed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's tamingthemuse community, for the prompt "father" (and a photo prompt of a baby clutching a man's finger)
> 
> * * *

"I'm here!" Matt yells as he pushes the door open. He slides into the room, arms pinwheeling; tries to take in everything at once. "The train got delayed and then we were at a standstill for fifteen minutes while a bunch of overpaid goons in lumberjack shirts crawled around on the track, and then I basically got sidetracked by a bunch of drunk Irishmen. Which really? Oh the shock. And then there was some issue with the turnstile that was completely not my fault but let me tell you, transit cops are brutal, and then—did I miss it?"

It's only when John holds up a hand that Matt realizes that Lucy is sound asleep in the bed, and that John? John is sitting in the chair and holding what has to be the tiniest, pinkest creature in existence. 

"Yeah, kid," John says. "You missed it."

Matt eases his messenger bag off his shoulder, shuffles quietly the rest of the way into the room to stand at John's side, to gaze down at the baby. Lucy's baby, so tiny in his arms. An hour ago she had been something that was going to happen in the future, some vague thing that was going to change all of their lives… but later, much later. Now she was a living breathing work of art.

"She looks like you," Matt says, "with the whole, you know, lack of hair thing."

"She's beautiful," John says.

"What I said," Matt says.

John's eyes flick to his and quickly away, but Matt still catches the pleasure that lights up his eyes – and the very slight blush that tinges his cheeks – before he turns his attention back to his granddaughter. The thought makes him blink, makes him look at the little girl in a new light. John McClane is a grandfather. Matt's not sure if that makes him some sort of pseudo step-grandfather or what, but just looking at her Matt already knows that he'll do everything in his power to keep that baby safe. 

"She's got a pretty good grip on you there, Grampa."

"What do you expect?" John asks. "She's a McClane."

"Well technically she's a Raskowski," Matt says, then quickly shuts his mouth when John gives him The Look. "Right," he clarifies. "She's actually a McClane-Raskowski. Or a Gennero-McClane-Rask… you know what? It doesn't matter. The McClane will be the dominant… I mean, she'll clearly be—"

"You wanna hold her?"

Matt shakes his head so fast he can feel the hair whipping past his ears; immediately tucks his hands under his arms. She looks like she weighs about two ounces and she's all pink and squirmy and wow, the last thing he wants to do is be responsible for that tiny little life. "No," he says quickly. "Noooo thanks."

"C'mon. You wanna hold her."

"No," Matt says again when John gets up from the chair. "Seriously John, I'm good, I'm all sweaty from running here from the station and I don't even know how to… whoa, okay, so you're just going to… oh holy fuck I'm holding the baby."

"Just relax, Matthew," John says. The hand he runs over the baby's head looks massive, the touch the gentlest Matt has ever witnessed. Matt slowly lets out a breath, smiles down at the baby in his arms.

"Holy shit," Matt breathes.

"You might wanna watch the profanity from now on, Farrell," Lucy says. 

Matt looks up. Lucy looks exhausted, dark circles under her eyes in a too-pale face… but he'd still lay odds that she could whip his ass. If she could get out of the bed. And considering it'd take at least ten seconds for her to clear the bedrail, he figures he's safe for the moment. "Yeah," he says, "you're right. I'll have to watch my fucking mouth from now on."

"Farrell."

"Are they always this wrinkly, Gennero? Or is this some kind of weird genetic defect from your mother's side of the family?"

"Oh, Farrell. That's nothing," Lucy says dryly. "Wait 'til you see the video." 

Matt glances from Lucy to John. "Tell me she's joking."

"Jim filmed the whole thing," Lucy says. "He'll show you when he gets back from the cafeteria."

"Um."

"Unless you want to wait to see it on the big screen. Dad's going to let us show it on the 50-inch, right Dad?"

"Anything you want, sweetie."

"Hah. You guys. There's that wacky McClane humour," Matt says. When Lucy just stares at him, he looks to John, who merely raises an eyebrow. Three years he's been a part of this family – three years! – and he still can't get a read on them when they get like this. He decides to just ignore them altogether and cuddle the baby instead. At least she hasn't perfected any deadpan McClaneisms. Yet. 

He's still looking down at Lucy's little girl when the first explosion rocks the building. He steadies himself on his feet, arms clutching tighter around the baby, so he's ready for the second blast. It's strong enough that the vase of flowers on the bedside table topples to the floor, the shattering of the glass almost drowning out the buzz of John's cell phone.

"Uh, Lucy," he says, already handing the baby over, "you do realize what today is, right?"

He sees Lucy's eyes go wide as comprehension dawns. 

"I'm _not_ cursed," John mutters as he flips his phone closed. 

"Sure," Matt says. "Tell that to the flower shop that exploded all over us that Valentine's Day." He's saved from John's completely lameass and ridiculous rebuttal when a third explosion sounds faintly in the distance. 

He meets John's eyes.

Matt's not sure, but it kind of sounds like the explosions are coming from the direction of the cafeteria. 

"March 18th is a great day," he says when they're heading out the door, after John has leaned down to kiss Lucy, to lay a big paw gently on his granddaughter's head. "March 16th? Awesome day, perfect for childbearing. But your daughter can't give birth on either of those days, oh no. She's a McClane. She has to have her baby on—"

"I'm not fucking cursed, all right?"

"—St. Patrick's Day! That's right, a holiday. But sure, John. You're not cursed. You and holidays go together like peas and carrots. Just remind me to lock everyone in the house on Founders Day. We might want to go on lockdown for National Nurses Day as well."

"Matt."

"Free Comic Book Day! It's gonna be hard for me to give that one up, but for the safety of the family I'll make the sacrifice."

Matt jumps back when John whirls on him. "Are you going to keep talking," John grits out, "or are you going to help me kick some ass?"

Matt grins… because in this family, you either grin or you go insane. Besides, there are benefits. He's got John McClane. And his life is certainly never boring. "I'm up for some ass," he answers.

John rolls his eyes. 

But when they're crouched behind the remains of the salad bar and John's done signaling the plan to Jim, his hand comes down to rest possessively and firmly on Matt's ass.

Once the bad guys are dealt with, and Lucy and her new family are safe, there's going to be a lot of energy to work off. 

Matt's looking forward to it.


End file.
